WHAT?!

I planned to write about a couple of the items on my list today (and I may later), but I had an interesting morning and if I don't write about it I may hit the whiskey and well I have to work later so I'm going to try and stick to writing.

Yesterday amidst my planning I made an appointment to give plasma. As many of you know this means a great deal to me, however due to my lifestyle the past several months I have not been able to donate, I was not accepted. This week happens to be the anniversary of my Aunt's passing, I thought a great time to get back into things.

I had to go back in for an annual physical (which really are just a few taps, presses and 'ahhhhh's, nothing intense). When you want to donate weekly you have to get this done to make sure your body is up for it. I did it last year and all was well and good.

Today I was so excited. Which when I think about it is kinda strange as I was going to be poked, prodded, squeezed and needled several times voluntarily, however I was. I filled out the paperwork, got weighed in (which wasn't nearly as terrible!!!), had my blood pressure done (104 over 71 - woot woot!!! HR 68).

Anyways I got through all that, had my picture taken for files, signed on a bunch of Xes, then had my fingers poked not once but three times to get blood for testing purposes. I hate hearing the words 'I've never seen this before'. Doesn't exactly make you feel relaxed.

I told the nurse how important it was for me to do this and she was quickly rooting for me. She noted my weight change and looked concerned. Never in my life would I have thought that would be an issue. She said sometimes with weight loss there were no pass tests. I told her I'd been eating very healthy, high protein foods and lots of exercise. I never had a problem when I first started donating so why, after months of hard work now? I'd pass.

She stuck the sample thingy in the little machine and we waited. I told her I was more nervous about the results of this than I ever was for a school test. She said she understood and really wanted me to pass.

The machine beeped...

She looked at it...

Then I heard the horrible words ... 'I'm sorry hun. You're iron is still too low. By one point.'

WHAT?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S TOO LOW? IT'S NOT TOO LOW, CHECK AGAIN!!!! Well that's what I thought. I actually just sat there.

She recommended an iron supplement as she said I likely wouldn't need a daily vitamin. She thought even taking one every other day might help. I just sat there nodded and optimistically said 'I'll get it next time!'. She continued on to say I should try red meat (which I rarely eat), and drink orange juice to help absorb the iron. I tried to listen but really I just wanted to leave.

She kindly reminded me to notify the receptionist (who is always way to nice and empathetic about this) on my way out. I was dreading this exchange because her eyes were always full of love and made me want to melt.

However I knew I had to because I had to cancel my next two appointments that had been made before I came in. Sigh ...

I took a deep breath and walked to the counter and stated 'I'm a dud.'

The two ladies behind the desk both said 'No you're not! It happens, let's look at a time in 56 days' (which to me seems like an eternity).

I booked my next 'try'.

Then I went into the raining world (how appropriate) and wept in my car. Streaming wept. Frustrated wept. Angry wept. I'm sorry wept. Guilty wept.

Tears fell down my face as I sobbed regretfully. And as I wrestled with the stupid code thing-a-ma-jig that wouldn't bring up the barrier to let me out - the last thing I needed was to go back inside to face the incredibly kind ladies that I'm sure would have had out of the oven cookies waiting for me, just because they seemed to know I needed them.

Finally the barrier lifted and I was allowed to leave. I cried all the way home, sent a couple of texts, then decided if I couldn't give plasma I would let out my frustrations on some sort of machine at the gym.

I quickly changed once home and climbed back into my car to sweat, sweat, sweat. I really wished today that they had a dark room with no media in it just so I could work out and think. But they didn't.

I came out soaked. Got into my car and briefly thought about how great a chocolate fudge cake would taste right now. It was always so faithful to me before. I began to drive. Went into the mall and almost blasted right past the huge display of flowers in the entrance. I stopped and gazed at the beautiful Gerber Daisies I saw sitting there. Perfectly happy, perfectly coloured, perfectly ... perfect. I picked up a bunch, didn't see a price then decided they would be my date today.

I grabbed the last basket left and filled it with spinach, orange juice, strawberries, bananas and blackberries then headed to the till.

I whisked through realizing I paid no attention to the final tally. I checked the receipt when I got in the car. Yeah, the flowers were an expensive date, but worth every cent.

So I'm now in a bit of a sad mood, but I'll get over it. It's not the end of the world or anything. Spinach and orange juice will now become a daily part of my diet along with whatever else I learn will help with iron (no doubt, someone out there in blog world will tell me). But I will still pursue to raise my iron levels through natural means since it wasn't drastically low and I do believe more in the most natural ways possible.

*Deep breath*

I'm not exactly sure why I got so upset after being rejected again (although just hearing the word rejected makes me sad). I know donating plasma doesn't bring my aunt back. I don't have anyone else I know that has been or is currently being affected by it, I just know it means so much that I can do it. Especially with my blood type being the rarest around.

I've been thinking ... I may just need to throw a little 'YAY!! I can donate plasma again!!!' party down the road.

Why not? We don't celebrate enough.